


Family

by Calacious



Category: General Hospital
Genre: Drabbles, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-30
Updated: 2014-06-08
Packaged: 2018-01-27 14:07:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1713365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calacious/pseuds/Calacious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason is starting to realize who his real family is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. More Often

**Author's Note:**

  * For [suerum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/suerum/gifts).



> The start of a drabble series.

It was just a hug. No big deal. Though, well, for him it was a big deal, because he didn’t give hugs very often, if ever. Not to people who weren’t family.

“Thank you, Spinelli,” Jason says, and he doesn’t end the hug abruptly. Doesn’t pull away when Spinelli finally returns the gesture, stiff limbs growing loose as he realizes that this is really happening and that Jason’s not going to shove him away.

“It was the Jackal’s pleasure,” Spinelli says, his voice muffled by Jason’s chest. Jason can almost envision Spinelli blushing, vows to do this more often, because, in a way, Spinelli’s more like family than those that Jason grew up with.


	2. Growth Spurt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When exactly had Spinelli gotten almost as tall as Jason?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by a picture I saw on Bradford Anderson's twitter (no offense is meant to anyone, and this is completely just friendship, not slash); I'd just noticed the height non-difference, and was rather compelled to write. 
> 
> For suerum, who said, 'you know, this kind of looks like a hug.' - I got the hint. :-) Hope you like. This is a rather ridiculous offering.

Funny, Jason doesn’t remember Spinelli being almost taller than he is. He thinks that, maybe, he should have noticed this, somewhere along the way. Feels remiss for having missed Spinelli’s growth spurt. 

It isn’t until Spinelli comes into the penthouse, a wide, goofy grin on his face - like he’s heard the best news since, well, since sliced bread - and announces that he’s going to be the recipient of the detective of the year award, and Jason gives him a slap on the arm that somehow turns into a one-armed hug, that Jason finally notices that Spinelli’s head no longer lands somewhere near his shoulder. 

Jason doubts that it’s a new development, is kind of ashamed to admit that he hadn’t noticed how tall Spinelli had gotten, so he doesn’t say anything. He just squeezes Spinelli’s shoulders, and plants a congratulatory kiss on the man’s cheek, ignores Spinelli’s confused look, and the way that the man blushes. 

It’s what people do after all. And he’s people. Spinelli’s people. Spinelli’s his people. Or, well, maybe Spinelli’s just his person, in the singular, just like Jason’s Spinelli’s person. They’re each other’s people, and when one of them has good news, well, then, it’s just natural that they hug, and etc. The tallness, though, well, that’s something new, and something that Jason’s going to keep an eye on. 


	3. Fever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spinelli's sick, and Jason finds that he doesn't mind taking care of him.

Jason lays the back of his hand against Spinelli’s forehead, frowns, and tucks the blanket tighter around Spinelli’s shoulders. 

He rises to leave, and Spinelli catches him by the wrist, gives him a pained look -- eyes glazed, red and puffy around the edges. Spinelli’s nose is equally red, his skin abnormally pale, though his cheeks are flushed with fever. 

“Spinelli?” Jason keeps his voice low, in deference to the headache that he knows his friend has. The headache he’d been complaining of for the past two days, and which had somehow grown into something far more sinister -- either a run-of-the-mill cold, or the flu. 

“Stay?” the word is whispered, and Spinelli’s eyes droop, his hold on Jason’s wrist slackens. 

Jason weighs the pros and cons of staying with Spinelli. He hasn’t been sick in years, doesn’t relish the thought of getting sick now, but when he looks down at the feverish young man, something stirs in his heart, and he nods. 

“Okay, I’ll stay.” 

Jason sits on the edge of Spinelli’s bed, and Spinelli scoots over, giving Jason room enough to get comfortable, leaning back against the headboard. He plucks a book off Spinelli’s bedside table, takes a look at the cover and smiles. It’s well-worn, dog eared in places, and from the looks of it, it’s a book that Spinelli’s already read, more than once. 

“Would you like me to read to you?” Jason asks on a whim, something about the book, about Spinelli being so sick with fever, begging him to ask. 

“Please?” Spinelli’s voice is small, almost like a child’s. 

He’s peering up at Jason through a fringe of hair that’s fallen across his forehead. Jason brushes the hair aside, tries not to worry about the heat coming off of Spinelli. He’d already called Monica, had her look at Spinelli, and she’d determined that with plenty of fluids, rest, and some fever-reducer, Spinelli would be fine in a couple days, maybe a week. 

Jason pushes his worry down, settles in for the long haul, waits for Spinelli to get comfortable beneath the blankets, and then, clearing his throat, he opens the book and begins to read. 

Before long, Spinelli’s soft snores punctuate the pauses that accompany Jason’s reading. Choosing a good place to end his narration -- though Jason’s not an avid reader, he can understand why Spinelli likes this book, and is more than eager to get back to reading it, just as soon as Spinelli’s awake. Yawning, he stretches, lies down beside Spinelli, and lets his eyes fall closed. 

Just for a few minutes , he tells himself. 

When he next opens his eyes, Spinelli’s got one arm draped over his chest, and his face is tucked up against Jason, his warm breath wafting across Jason’s collarbone. He’s warm and sticky, and yet comfortable. Spinelli appears to be, if not a hundred percent better, at least a little less hot than he was earlier, or maybe Jason’s just grown used to the warmth radiating off the younger man. 

In any case, Jason is good and stuck, and, though it could be all kinds of awkward, it isn’t. He finds that he doesn’t mind Spinelli being stuck to him like a starfish clinging to a rock. With that thought, he closes his eyes, lets sleep claim him, knowing that, when he wakes, he’ll have to rouse Spinelli and give him another dose of medication, feed him some chicken broth, and then read to him. All in all, it’s not a bad gig, taking care of a sick friend. 

 


End file.
